Sleeping with Bibsy. I mean, her book

There were three Bs who showed me kindness early in my writing profession: Boy Abunda, Baby K. Jimenez and Bibsy Carballo.

I was still in college that time — doing practicum work for a TV magazine that eventually absorbed me even before I could graduate. My timing was perfect. There was this regular staff member who was resigning and I took over her slot. On her last day at work, she bequeathed to me her phone directory that had names and numbers of people I would need to update the weekly cultural calendar.

Boy was then with the public relations department of the Metropolitan Theater. Oh, he had always been perceptive. When I called him up on the phone (landline), he immediately detected my rawness. Instead of getting annoyed because I was so ignorant of the people who mattered in dance and theater, he patiently spelled out for me their names and who they are in the cultural scene.

I also credit Boy for bringing me to the disco for the first time in my life — was it at the Tradewinds Hotel near South Superhighway? I don’t recall the name of the disco anymore. But I remember Boy dancing the night away with PR girls of other establishments, while I nursed in my table a glass of pineapple juice because I was a minor and could not be served alcoholic beverages.

That was the only break I had because the workload was this high since there was a shortage of slaves in the company.

When I was done with the cultural calendar, the assistant editor would make me follow up requirements for the articles of other staff members. They were doing a wedding folio of movie stars from the ‘50s to the ‘80s. They needed a photo of Christopher de Leon and Nora Aunor’s beach wedding from a decade before. Call Baby K. — somebody barked at me. Bravely, I opened the tattered pages of the phone book that I inherited and dialed Baby K.’s number. She proved to be another kind soul. She instructed me to call Roper’s and tell the staff there that she had authorized me to get pictures from the photography studio.

To this day, I’ve never met Baby K. because she migrated to the West Coast shortly after that talk with her. But thank you, Baby K.

Bibsy was another angel during my early foray in the business. She had her own publicity office and the publication one time needed a transparency for the magazine’s cover. When I dialed Bibsy’s number, it was she who answered the phone, but I didn’t know it was already her. Meekly, I asked: “Good afternoon, I am looking for Mr. Bibsy Carballo.”

Practically on cue, everyone in the editorial room stared at me so sharply I almost felt the cuts on my exposed arms and face. “It’s Miss,” she hollered at the other end of the line. I wanted to die that very moment, except that she didn’t show any sign that she got angry. In fact, she laughed so hard she must have been grateful to me for having wiped away a whole day’s stress. She was still laughing as I put the phone down — relieved that she was more happy than offended with that newcomer’s mistake.

A week later, I finally met Bibsy in person. She went to the office to deliver the materials we requested and I saw her get off her Sampaguita Beetle — a Volkswagen that had a body made of wrought iron.

Oh, she was tall — and pretty with long, wavy hair. Later, I would discover that she was once a model and cover girl for Graphic Magazine. There was a time, in fact, that she looked like Cher on a glam day.

I also found out later that literary great Paz Marquez Benitez was her aunt. Bibsy herself writes — and writes well (sometimes for this paper). My early recollection of her, however, was that of a PR and talent manager.

Last Saturday, Ricky Lo handed me a book: Bibsy’s book, a compilation of her writings about the great directors of Philippine cinema: from Manuel Conde to Brillante Mendoza.

I’m only in the Mike de Leon part and I’m not rushing. Not that it’s a bore. Bibsy’s Filipino Directors Up Close is very readable — and very informative (it was here that I found out that Lino Brocka wasn’t the first Pinoy director to get exhibited at the Cannes Filmfest, but Lamberto Avellana).

But I am one to savor a book and I am deliberately slow so that I’d be able to relish every word and sentence — and Bibsy’s articles are delicious.

Although they say that you cannot judge a book by its cover (nor a film by its trailer), I know that it’s a good read — based on the couple of articles I’ve already read.

However, I cannot do a book review of it yet because I am not done reading it to the last period at the end — what with tons of other chores to accomplish (and that include writing this column). But I am enjoying it so far and reading her made me look back at our friendship.

No, we never had the chance to become close friends. But the respect is there and I know that she’ll be there for me when I need her.

Still during the early phase of my writing career: there was a time I became jobless after a major company retrenchment. The publication closed down right before the Yuletide break.

A fringe benefit of being in this profession is that you get goodies during the holiday season. That time I was out of the scene (but only for a couple of months), Bibsy was the only PR person who sent me a present: A jar of merengue. That was truly a memorable Christmas gift and I still savor the sight and taste of it in my head while I — ever so slowly — enjoy her book.

Filipino Directors Up Close is tucked under my comforter and I chomp off an article or two before I go to bed. Yes, I now sleep with Bibsy Carballo — her book, I mean.